A Sword that Hunts Serpents
by 002219
Summary: In the aftermath of Ibukido's destruction, a Hero discovered the burned form of a young woman, one who stared upon the stars. And in those burning fields, where no compassion had ever been shown before- he performed for her an act of kindness, and her very own fairytale was born.
1. Summer's Advance

_?_

* * *

Shirou Emiya ran through the burning fields of Ibukido, rapidly approaching the lone figure. His silver armor shone dimly in the sun, and the black robe that lay over it flowed in the fiery air.

The blonde figure looked up, her face blank, as if distracted by something. A moment later, the knight's hand pulled her out of the fire, and he set her down on the earth, both figures neither noticing nor caring of her lack of clothing.

He materialized a golden sheath, and allowed it to disperse into the girl's body. He covered her burn marks with his black cloth, and smiled, for he had saved her life.

And the words of that one man, all those years ago, came back to him, and he knew what to say next.

"What's your name?" he asked. The girl's eyes focused, and looked at the man. They were intelligent eyes, eyes of mechanical precision.

Alpha. Beta. Gamma. Delta. Epsilon. Zeta. Eta. Theta. Iota. Kappa. Lambda.

And her name was…

"Mu," she says, her voice soft. The burn scars on her face faded as Avalon went to work, and she smiled at her savior. He looked… very happy. "My name… is Mu."

"Mu. That's a very unique name. Now, people are going to start coming soon, so I'll make this quick. Right now, you have a choice. What would you prefer? Would you like to follow me, and be constantly in danger, or would you like to be taken to the proper authorities, and be safe all your life?"

Mu stared into those eyes; those eyes of fire- those eyes of steel. And she made her choice.

"I'll come with you."

He smiled.

"Then let's get out of here."

* * *

Let us speak of a tale- a tale that will be spoken until eternity.

There was once a beast- a great, black beast, of which none knew the origins.

It rose against humanity, and even their greatest weapons could not harm the monstrosity.

And when all seemed lost, when panic and chaos overwhelmed the world, six heroes rose to the challenge.

Leading them was a man in silver armor and black cloak- a hero of justice. And by his side were knights of valor: former wanderers, joined together by the silver knight.

After what seemed to be an endless struggle, humanity achieved victory. With the art of magic, they accomplished that which the greatest bombs could not hope to match.

* * *

The knight in black continued to live out his life, hailed as the strongest warrior history has ever known.

The duality of man, however, struck again for the first time in ages, and magic was rearmed for use in war.

The new government, the Novus Orbis Librarium, created a great weapon- Gigant: Take-Mikazuchi.

And in a spectacular show of man's destructive power, it fired upon the 5th Hierarchical City of Ibukido, reducing it to nothing more than a pile of steaming rubble. This weapon was so powerful, it was feared- and many an argument erupted over its potential misuse.

But that story, the story of politics, is another tale for another time.

For today, we will speak of a girl found in the burning fields.

* * *

-It was said, that there was a manor that rested upon a hill, and in it, lived the Great Knight.

He resides in the lonely dark building, and his life stayed hidden from both society and the world.

At times, five warriors would visit, and it would be a merry night- but these visits were few and far in-between, and the knight was isolated for most of his late years.

Yet tonight- when the stars are twinkling bright, and the night skies are shrouded with purple lights- that was about to change.

* * *

"I'm sorry that the space is quite small," Shirou says, smiling at the blonde girl, "but I do very much prefer narrow hallways and easily movable furniture than grand mansions."

Mu shook her head, clutching the black robe closer to her body. "It is fine," she says, and scanned the walls and ceilings. "Smaller space means less energy required to move from one room to another. Besides," and here she gave a small smile, "I feel safe with cramped space."

The red-haired man shook his head and chuckled, and continued to lead the way to the main bedroom.

Just like with the rest of the house, it was but a small flight of stairs later that they reached the living quarters. Books were scattered everywhere, and swords hung on the walls.

Mu was curious of these swords. They were crafted with absolute care and had an aura of definition collected into it. It was as if each and every blade had a destiny to fulfill; as if swords and spears from fairytales, weapons of great knights in the best of armors.

"I see you're interested in my work." She turned her head to the side, where the man was already sprawled on the bed. His eyes were shrouded in darkness, and she could not read any emotion he may have held in them.

"I… like swords," Mu said, the informal way of explaining her affection for blades itching against her mouth.

Shirou smiled, an expression she could not see. "So do I."

* * *

But be cautious, my dear friends- for a sword was meant only to kill; show compassion and care to it, and it will only be ever sharper.

* * *

The NOL Academy was a place for study. It accepts those who are intelligent enough to sit beside the children of noble families, and modest enough not to cause any trouble.

This trait remained largely the sane after Mu's induction into the academy. There was, however, one thing that visibly changed:

Swords had become much more prominent.

It was a strange thing at the time; most of the weapons talked about were either the Nox Nyctores, or simple spells and tomes. Swords, spears, and shields were rarely discussed, as they had lost use in all subjects except for history.

Mu would not have that. She would never have allowed her father's prided and favored equipment to be forgotten.

So, in the small vacation leave that would be given at the end of every year, she would visit her father, and would study blades. Whether they are of legendary swords, or of mundane equipment, she would observe and learn their use and art thoroughly.

And though she may not understand her purpose in life, she knew just who it was that gave her a personality.

A personality based on an ideal: the ideal of justice.

* * *

His body was made of blades. Iron was his blood, and glass was his heart. And so, just like her father, the girl was one with will of iron.

* * *

"How long has it been since the Beast?"

Shirou drank his tea, and shrugged. "Many years."

"It's probably numbered in the dozens by now."

"Don't count on it."

Caren sighed, and leaned back on her seat.

"Tired?" Shirou asked, though he did little to alleviate her discomfort. She picked up her tea, and started to drink.

"It's been a long night," she admitted, and her eyes seemed like they were about to close at any moment. "Apparently, there was a small, but very diplomatically complicated… skirmish at the 13th."

"The Ikaruga survivors again?" he asked, grimacing slightly at the memory.

"No, no," she dismissed with a wave of her hand. "It's more like… hm, how do I put it nicely…" She tapped her fingers against the table, then continued. "It leaned more towards a case of civil disobedience, you can say. One of the new officers seemed to have panicked, and one thing led to another, ending with my reassignment."

Shirou sighed and put down his cup. "Always the new ones, isn't it?"

"Not necessarily. I heard one of the noble families went into trouble with the Imperator. Something about… excessive control."

Idly, he noticed that she was pausing a lot in a single conversation.

"Why don't we talk about this tomorrow?" he offered, standing up. "My daughter's coming for a visit in the morning, anyway. I'll introduce you."

"That sounds… great," Caren agreed, still pausing mid-speech. "Hmm, do you think I can borrow a room here?"

The red-haired man laughed it off, picking up the empty cups. "Nah, the house is pretty small. I would if I could, but it's pretty much impossible." Then he paused, and frowned a little. "Actually, there might be some space if we stack the books up in the right order…"

* * *

A man who gave his entire life for others- never refusing a plea for help, never abandoning those in need. It was a miracle that he was the one who encountered the sword.

* * *

By dawn, Mu had stepped off the ars-powered carrier that frequented the rebuilt city of Ibukido. She walked down a road, through a district, moved up a hill, and finally reached her home.

Entering with her key, she walked in and called out, "I'm home."

Her father walked down the staircase not more than three meters away, and he smiled brightly, closing in and embracing her for the first time in a year.

* * *

The knight was a just sword- a cold steel that kills to protect. But, just for those he cared about- he would put on his mask of innocence and optimism, to hide the pain of a great warrior.

It would be a mask she would soon find herself inheriting.

* * *

The first thing Mu said after the introduction was,

"I did not know we still had priests."

At this, Caren had frowned, as if she had heard that comment a thousand times- which she may as well had, all things considered- and was at great displeasure that the topic was brought up again.

"Not here in Ibukido, no," Shirou agreed from his place in the kitchen. "But religion is an integral part of society, and some of the bigger Hierarchical Cities have entire streets dedicated for their use."

Mu stayed silent, absorbing all the information she could take at the moment. It lasted until Caren spoke of a thought that had plagued her ever since she noticed that the girl's hair was a bright golden.

"Shirou," she called, "who was your wife? It was not Luvia, was it?"

Something he was cooking suddenly let out a loud sound- with a shout of 'gwah?!' hidden in it- and Caren smirked in amusement.

"N-no! I found Mu here, in Ibukido! I adopted her!"

"Ah," the priestess paused, suddenly looking very flustered. "I apologize. I did not know."

* * *

Yet all good things must come to an end. Like an hourglass, the grains of time had passed, and soon, our young protagonist must say farewell to the peace that had settled into her life.

* * *

On one dark night, a messenger came to our young lady's dormitory. She had allowed him entry, and both held a private conversation away from prying ears.

"The NOL has personally reviewed your case, Miss," he had started. "Our superiors had come to a compromise on where we should most distribute your skills in."

It was no secret in the Academy that Mu was a very talented student. Her affinity with Nox Nyctores was one of the highest ever recorded, and her physical skills were above average. She was not born to be an officer- she was born to be a fighter.

"They have decided to give you an offer of promotion. Should you agree to this, then you may skip the Academy's final year.

Miss Emiya- how would you like to serve as the bodyguard of Captain Hazama at Intelligence?"

* * *

And so, here, the beginning of our tale is carved.

Some of the many who are involved said that it is the tale of an officer and his protector, the legend of a snake and its hunter, the story of a sword and its sheath.

Or, others argue,

It is the story of a man and his woman.


	2. Winter's Repose

_-This day, and never again._

* * *

Somewhere in the farthest corners of this world, in a place untouched by the infinite time-loops, a silver-haired man stared down an unremarkable slab of stone.

With great care and respect, the man read aloud, "_A memorial dedicated to a loving father, a great explorer, and a powerful foe._

_In remembrance of Clavis Alucard, once known in life as __Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg__."_

A smile formed on his lips.

"I did not realize you were so dramatic, old friend," he continued, allowing the smile to grow. "But, then again, we must all leave behind a deep mark, do we not? Otherwise, we will fade into obscurity."

The slab of stone, as expected, did not answer. The only other words to be found on it was the mere sentence of, 'Missing in action.' Sighing, the man looked up to the sky, and idly noted that the stars were starting to align.

"Madame Rachel is about to intervene again, I fear," he continued, turning away from the stone and facing the entrance. "Which course of action she will pick, without you to guide her, I have wondered for a time now."

And here he smiled again, stating for the first and last time his resolve.

"But worry not; I will protect her with my life. However- should you not return before I pass on and end me yourself, I will be greatly disappointed."

With that said, Valkenhayn R. Hellsing, once known in life as Lugh Beowulf, took his first step towards an unknown future.

* * *

_ "I am a wolf, hubristic and greedy, with a talent only for destruction._

_ Without looking back or reflecting, I puff out my chest in pride, and if that means I'm alone, then alone I'll be._

_ And one day, I'm sure, I'll meet the Little Red Riding Hood that will destroy me."_

-_Mahou Tsukai No Yoru, Witch on the Holy Night._

* * *

The year of 2045 was a turning point for the world at large; the first spiral of meaningful events since the Dark War.

Let us start small, however, and away from the big picture; let us start with a certain stormy day, when our fairytale first found its beginning.

* * *

It was the day after Mu accepted the offer of promotion, and it had been, indeed, far from a joyous morning. Seperation of friends and family had always been sorrowful, and early ones even more so.

That day, the sun was hidden behind a great rainfall, its bright light dim and what came through barely a trickle. Dark clouds, like the stormy works of a gloomy artist, hovered forebodingly above Ibukido Station.

It was a weather that calls for water protection, and there was one particular umbrella that stood out among the rest of the crowd; one that was bright red, covering our young protagonist.

"This is it, I suppose," her father muttered a step behind, his farewell softly cutting through the silence.

It was not a sorrowful quietness, as some may believe, but an encouraging one; for though Shirou Emiya is certain that he was no model father, if there was one thing he could admit to himself he had done right, it would be his willingness to let go.

"Yes," Mu replied, her similarly soft voice nearly drowned out by the sound of rain. Her father, used to her quiet responses, caught the uttered words and gave one of his rare smiles.

"Don't let me keep you. Your friends should be waiting inside already."

The young woman nodded and turned, and was about to open the station doors when a thought struck her. It was trifle, really- a random thought she had unexpectedly caught in her mind. Yet even so, she turned around once more, and faced the now confused man.

"I love you, father," she said, sounding as dull as was her norm. "I've had fun with you. I hope we can have fun in the future as well."

Whatever he wanted to reply with, it was overlapped with the sound of a car skidding to a halt. She shook her head, telling him to keep the words for himself.

After all, she had a duty to fulfill.

And as she walked through the double doors, a phantom of what he said seemed to echo just beyond her ears' reach:

"_-You have grown, Mu."_

* * *

The farewell with her friends took up considerably more time, all for the simple fact that they were not as quiet and depth-hidden as her father was.

Makoto Nanaya was late, as had become a routine for the four friends. Tsubaki Yayoi and Jin Kisaragi were, in contrast, as punctual as always, standing side-by-side inches behind a pillar.

The rain continued to prattle down on the building's rooftop, adding more gloom to the tense air between them all. Twitching slightly, Mu retracted her umbrella.

"Hey, guys." Their beastkin friend was the one who first gave her greeting, the normally cheery girl's voice valiantly fighting to brighten the melancholic atmosphere. "Sorry I'm late. Had to pick up Uncle Shiki on the way here." Makoto sighed theatrically. "Dude seriously can't catch a break. This has got to be the tenth piece of furniture he tried to kill since the start of the month."

Though Makoto's voice was incessantly complaining, her features were serious, and soon morphed into a frown. The same went for Tsubaki, though the Major's expression bore more similarity to Mu's.

"…I'm sorry I wasn't able to delay the departure date," Jin apologized once their friend finished talking. "None of my officers bothered to inform me of this in advance, and the Intelligence Department was too hasty to include the transfer report to my desk."

His head was tilted downwards to emphasize, though he knew quite well that she had already forgiven him. Standing beside him, it was Tsubaki's turn to speak her mind.

"-So…" she started, trying to form a conversation, though her attempt quickly and spectacularly failed to spark any. Her blue eyes were cast downwards and scanned the floor, looking for inspiration; she found none.

Mu tilted her head to the side, a small twitch in facial muscles indicating her curiosity. Tsubaki sighed, surrendered, and simply gave voice to her thoughts.

"We'll miss you," she says, looking up and meeting her eyes directly. "We still have half a year before we graduate and catch up, and Jin's too busy being a member of the Praetorian Guard…"

The swordswoman nodded, her words tightly kept as usual. Seeing that she didn't have anything to add into the conversation, the Major took his turn to sigh and placed a single hand on her shoulder.

"This is goodbye, then. I'll see if I can stack up enough vacations for reunions and the like." Jin removed his hand and gestured towards the vessel. "Go on. Just… don't try to break any poor officer's bones in arm-wrestling, at least not on the first day."

Without any more acknowledgement, as was her usual method of business, Mu turned and started to walk, her umbrella and duffel bag slung over her shoulder.

And with that noteless pause, the doors closed, her departure sealed.

* * *

_Inside this heir to the Azure, the limitless Boundary reflect the thousands of empty dreams._

_Inside this Eye, the endlesss cycle of lies reflect the fragments of memories left behind._

* * *

A small tune played along continuously, even as the purple-caped puppeteer walked into his new office.

To his lack of surprise, he found that a green-haired man had already seated himself on his rightful property.

"Hazama," he greeted. "May I ask why you are sitting in my office?"

The man, Hazama, grinned and waved his hand dismissively. "Of course, of course. You see, I was just cooling off after an exhausting day. You know, timey-wimey Takamagahara transportation between loops and all that."

Relius rose an eyebrow, unamused by his partner's sugar-coating of the subject, and asked, "You mean to say you are procrastinating?"

"Shush!" All of a sudden, Hazama's eyes shot open, and he pointed a finger threateningly at the puppeteer. "We lazy bums're undercover."

Releasing an inaudible sigh, Relius mentally surrendered the verbal war, walked over to the desk and pulled out a stack of papers.

"I should inform you that Noel Vermillion will arrive in two or so hours." His lips curved downwards into a frown, reading from the top sheet of paper. "Or perhaps, as this instance seem to insist, I should call her 'Mu Twelve'."

For a brief moment, there was silence.

"What," Hazama finally- though also flatly- replies, looking up from his twirling Ouroborous chain. "Uh… Care to repeat that, friendo?"

"Mu Twelve'," the puppeteer repeated, complying. "Though, I asssume that did not clear any of your concerns?"

The snake did not reply with words, but swept the piece of paper away from him. As if stuck on a replay, his eyes repeatedly scanned the sheet again and again, before finally releasing it and throwing his arms in the air.

"I just know this is that old bat Clavis' fault," he mutters, scowling. "I just know it."

The puppeteer did a wonderful job at tuning out Hazama's complaints, it seems, as he then went straight to the point.

"Still, there remains some positive changes to salvage," he assured, catching the sheet of paper off the air. "For example, it says here she cooks quite well; nothing short of miraculous, considering how her terrifying dish was able to eliminate Bloodedge last time."

Oh, yes, that was an amusing time-loop. Noel Vermillion, loving daughter, loyal officer, and one-woman army; had it been up to Relius, she would have earned the title of 'Hero' then and there. Sadly, he was not the one to call the shots.

"It also states that the 'outstanding achievements' that gave her access to early graduation were considerably more 'outstanding' than before; her physical strength was above average," -which was rather obvious, for who else could swing around the heavy Bolverk pistols?- "her Nox Nyctores synchronization ratio equals even Kisaragi's, and as for her deadliness in combat…"

He shrugged, shaking his head slightly. "Matched by none, except perhaps Makoto Nanaya."

As though he was a child who had finally found something interesting to play with, Hazama's head shot up. "Wait, 'deadliness in combat'? Since when did we have _that _criteria?"

Relius paused, tilted his head, and picked up another paper out of the stack.

"Ah. It was Twelve's suggestion. Strange, I always assumed she would be gentle; a prime model for soft-spokeness, even."

Neither men suspected that their little blonde lieutenant would not be as small as they expected her to be. Or as short, as they will soon find out.

* * *

_Little boy blue, come blow your horn. _

_The sheep's in the meadow, the cow's in the corn. _

_Where is that boy, who looks after the sheep?_

_Under the haystack, fast asleep._

_Will you please wake him? _

_Oh no, not I; for if I do, he would surely cry._

* * *

The young woman sleeps soundly, skirting the border between dreams and reality. Her warming blanket rose and fell, and in this state, no matters in the outer world affected her.

She is like a hermit, dreaming and hiding; dreaming of things that could have been, things that were beyond her reach.

Finally, of course, she dreamt of choices she had picked, and wondered the alternatives of.

_-What if, back then, I did not take his hand?_

After all, in the wheels of fate, anything is possible.

_-What if, back then, I had wandered without purpose?_

Here, in these doubtful thoughts, distant, foregin memories, shattered and disconnected, rose once more, to strengthen her resolve.

* * *

"_-How could this world continue to exist, with all this disorder and chaos?"_

* * *

She nods in her sleep, agreeing with the illusory man's words.

The phantom continues,

* * *

"_-I am, the cold steel… I shall restore order to this world!"_

* * *

With that, her eyes opened. The blue, focused pupils narrowed and blinked, removing the excrutiating weariness she felt upon waking.

Mu's mind wandered back to the words she heard, and marvelled at the conviction behind them. She could not imagine the possibility of her ever finding such drive, and so she took a moment to admire the distant man's merciless claim, before engraving it in her mind.

After all, there were two ideals she believed in: mercy and justice; and, as she felt the man placed faith upon the latter, she entertained the idea of upholding the former.

Just to complete the set.

* * *

Somewhere else, a rip in time expanded, and with the flutter of roses, a blonde vampire appears.

"Hm. Still identical, it seems." With a careful tone, Rachel Alucard drew her own personal conclusion. For once, her two servants were absent, and with no one to comment on her completed observation, she walked alone across the grassy hill.

It was then that a wave of killing intent filled the area, and a voice sharply cut through the night air.

"You are not welcome in this stage."

Frowning at the interruption, Rachel turned to address the speaker, coming face-to-face with a silver-haired man.

Not one to be deterred easily, she asked, "And who might you be?"

His eyes did not waver at the inquiry, and his still face did little to divulge information.

"Who I am is my business," he replies easily. The killing intent subsided, which was fortunate- had it been a meeting between ordinary men, they would have found themselves struggling to keep their balance. Stepping towards the opposite direction, the man continues, "Staying out of it is yours."

Rachel found herself curious. Who was this man, and what was his role? Obviously, he knew of the wheels of fate, but to what extent?

Was he, perhaps, also separate from the time-loops?

"I think not," she declares imperiously. "If you have a single inkling as to what goes on behind the curtains, you would well understand of my observing right. Who are you to reject me?"

Unwavering, to which Rachel found herself giving a sense of respect for, he started walking, pausing only to say but a single sentence.

"If you wish to observe, then sit with the audience; you cannot interfere with the gears that turn behind this play."

With that, Shirou Emiya left the hill that overlooked his world.

* * *

_If I can have a wish to become true right now, I wish for a pair of wings._

_Please grant me white wings, on my back, like a bird._

_In this expansive sky, I wish to spread my wings and fly,_

_Towards that free sky, one without sorrow;_

_I wish to flap my wings, and go. _

_I still dream of those things-_

_Those illusions that I've dreamt of when I was little._

* * *

As the rain continued to pound unabatedly upon NOL Headquarters' balcony, a young Major retreated to the safety of his office, where he hoped to find peace and quiet, without any strings attached. Unfortunately, what was in store for him was not happy.

"You're late."

Slightly startled yet unwilling to admit it, Jin slowly turned his head from the door, where his eyes landed on the figure of a young woman sitting idly and comfortably behind his desk. Had it been anyone else, he would have been rather irritated at the intrusion, but for this one individual, he was tolerant.

"Yes, I am," he acknowledges, hanging his raincoat on a pole by the corner. "It's interesting how many people still refuse to let me pass through checkpoints without the proper paperwork, even though I'm a Major."

The normally-quiet Hero let his guard down, and Jin Kisaragi smiled at his sister.

"Just for formalities sake, 'I'm home'." With the standard greeting out of the way, he pointed a finger at her. "Now get out of my seat, Saya. I still have three stacks of papers to sort through."

* * *

_-If they can be reborn in the peaceful and beautiful world, then:_

_When he was a little boy, like a crow, he would have lived blissfully._

_When she was a little girl, like a rose, she would have lived proudly._

_Now, the lines have crossed to give them this opportunity._

_But, once more, take care. _

_For only those who have had liberty taken from them, can appreciate its full beauty._

* * *

And so, our actors have gathered, and took the stage.

Events are quickening, and the script's contents started its execution.

This play's beginning act comes to a close here.


End file.
